Chapter 43 Truth Unveiled
SARA'S POV
I am revealing to her the truth I have always hidden from my child. The pain, the love, the guilt, it all overwhelms me at once. How do I make Ira understand that no matter the truth, I have always loved her deeply?
I speak softly, “Ira…”
But her eyes, filled with tears, look straight at me and ask only one question, “No, Mom… just yes or no. Am I your daughter or not?”
My throat tightens. Before my eyes is that small, fragile face, soaked with tears, looking straight at me. With a racing heart, I sob and whisper, “You are my daughter, Ira… but I did not give birth to you.”
Her face freezes in shock. For a moment, she simply sits there on the ground, letting tears stream down her cheeks. Then slowly, she asks again, trembling, “Then… who is my mom?”
I speak gently, “Your mother has passed away, Ira.”
Hearing this, she cries even harder. But after a few moments, a spark of courage lights up within her. She steadies herself and says, “I have always considered everyone my own… but you are not my family.”
At that moment, Jecob steps forward, his tone gentle yet firm. “No, Ira… you are my sister, and you always will be.”
Her expression softens slightly, but the frustration and anger inside her remain. She shouts, “Now I understand Dad’s hatred… he was right. No one else’s child should be kept in his house!”
Jecob and I freeze in shock. The impact of Dad’s harsh words is clear on her young mind.
She yells again, “Shut up, Ira! You are my daughter. I have always loved you!”
Ira, her voice trembling with anger and pain, responds, “Because of me, there have always been fights between you and Dad… I felt good to finally know the truth. But after today, I will never come here again. This is not my home. You all are not my family.”
Her words hit me like a jolt. I step closer to her instinctively, and Jecob follows. Both of us try to calm her, to hold her safely.
Then Jack slowly steps forward and commands, “Everyone, step back. I can handle my wife.”
I am stunned by the strength and confidence in Jack’s voice. He carefully lifts Ira into his arms, pressing her head gently against his chest. Then, looking at Michael, he says in a low, dangerous tone, “If anything happens to my Ira… today will be your last day.”
Hearing this, my breath catches in my throat. The entire room seems to shift into a tense, heavy atmosphere. Jecob and I immediately rush behind Jack, following closely, our hearts pounding, mixed with fear, love, and anxiety.
Jack moves slowly, carrying Ira safely, while we run behind him, our eyes fixed on her, making sure she is protected.
Within an hour, we are all standing in the hospital corridor. The atmosphere is thick with tension, and everyone is anxious for Ira. Her checkup is still going on inside. Jack’s face is full of worry; he paces back and forth rapidly, his hands fidgeting, sometimes tugging at his shirt sleeve, sometimes resting on his head as he thinks. His eyes are constantly filled with fear and worry.
Then the cabin door opens, and a doctor comes out. Her expression is serious, but there’s a faint, reassuring smile in her eyes. She speaks gently, “You can meet her now. She’s fine. The dizziness was only due to weakness… and yes, she is pregnant.”
Hearing this, a wave of joy and relief spreads across all our faces. Jack just stands there, stunned, unable to believe it.
I give him a small smile and say softly, “Jack… congratulations… you’re going to be a father.”
His eyes widen in shock, and then, without warning, he hugs me tightly. My heart is flooded with a mix of joy and disbelief.
We all enter the room together. Ira sits on the bed, resting quietly, her eyes a little tired but her face calm and serene. Jack immediately goes to her, gently holding her hand, and asks, “Ira… are you okay?”
Ira just nods softly, a faint “yes,” her head moving slightly. She looks weak, but the relief inside her is clear.
I walk slowly toward her and ask, “You won’t talk to me now?”
She doesn’t answer. I speak again in a soft, loving voice, “It’s okay… for you, the mom who gave birth to you is important… but the one who raised you, the one who gave you a mother’s love, who always kept you happy… that’s me. You’re like Michael, too. In your eyes, blood matters more than bonds… but if you don’t want a relationship with me, then what am I doing here?”
I start to turn away to leave, but suddenly she grabs my hand. Her grip is strong, desperate, full of emotion. I look at her face… and then she pulls me into a tight hug, crying, “Sorry, Mom…”
Her crying is heart-wrenching. I am reminded of little three-year-old Ira, who used to cry like this as well. I hold her gently against my chest, letting the moment stretch, as if time itself has paused.
Then the room door opens, and someone enters. I freeze, surprised… it’s Michael. His eyes are locked on both me and Ira, Jack’s expression changes. Anger starts to spread across his face.
TO BE COUNTINUE...!!!